


Harry Potter and What Happens After The War

by Polarbears_at_lunchtime



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Ginny is politically active like we all know she would be, Harry Potter means well he is just not politically-savvy and frankly it shows, Just give him a dragon to fight, examining the sociopolitical ramifications of all that occurred in the wizarding war, the ethical dilemmas of magical secrecy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:55:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23263567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polarbears_at_lunchtime/pseuds/Polarbears_at_lunchtime
Summary: Seven years after the war, Harry Potter is an Auror and a bit of a political figurehead as 'The Man Who Lived'.When a populist movement known as 'Genesis' confronts the underlying issues inherent to magical society and pushes the Wizarding World in a startling new direction, Harry must decide where he stands in this brave new world and how to be a hero in a conflict when there is no clear villain.(This is an outline only, and open to being written. Also, I swear this is not as serious as it sounds.)
Relationships: Harry Potter & Original Character(s), Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an outline only. Feel free to write it out. (In fact, that would be awesome and please let me know if you do!!!)
> 
> Certain aspects of the epilogue are ignored (For instance, Luna is with Neville. I feel strongly about this for no real reason, ok?)
> 
> Also: this work features criticism of certain problematic aspects of the Wizarding World, some of which is never addressed in the books. Some of it is satirical, some of it less so. BUT IT'S ALL OUT OF LOVE. 
> 
> I really appreciate the amazing magical setting JK Rowling has created. This is a further exploration of that world and charts a hopeful path towards that world's brighter future.

The life of Harry Potter is going pretty swimmingly these days.

No, really, it is.

Seven years have passed since they won the Battle of Hogwarts and defeated the most psychotic dark wizard to ever wizard. Life since then for Harry has... actually it’s included several-many-more psychotic dark wizards, now that you mention it.

Because Harry is an Auror now. (At this point, it would honestly feel weirder if people stopped trying to kill him every other week, so he may as well embrace it as a career.)

Play to your strengths, right?

Well, Harry’s greatest strengths include Compulsive Snooping, Acts of Audacious Bravery, and Refusing to Die Despite Impossible Odds, so the job is essentially the same sort of thing he’s been doing ever since he first got curious about that little old vault in Gringotts and a certain stone and proceeded to unravel the complex magical security system of highly qualified professorial wizards with his fellow preteens.

In an unofficial capacity, one could say he’s been an Auror since he was an eleven—or heck, a one year old since that’s when he vanquished his first enemy (though that one’s a bit more of a stretch). Either way you slice it he’s been battling evil pretty much since he could tie his shoes. The point being: he was a shoe-in at that interview. Or, he would’ve been if there had been an interview.

Kingsley Shacklebolt had sort of just patted Harry on the shoulder during one of those days that were a blur in the aftermath—when everyone was still at Hogwarts after the battle, still a little in shock—and told Harry next Monday was good. Y’know, for his first day of training as an Auror. And bring that Weasley kid, too.

Sure, okay, sounds cool.

Harry knew he had mentioned a time or two to the Order about how he planned to become an Auror someday.

Apparently, Monday was that someday.

Harry was sure the offer would’ve been open to Hermione too, had she wanted it, but she’d mentioned a time or twelve that she intended to finish out her Hogwarts education and pursue a career elsewhere in the Ministry (and no one was foolish enough to doubt that she will indeed do this and succeed beyond all expectations and precdents while she’s at it).

But back to the present: we begin in media res, with Harry’s latest case. It’s a homicide, and a nasty one at that. He and his Auror-partner, Alfric Willoughby, are casing the place (by reading the magical signatures for the spells cast here in the past 48 hours, checking the floo traffic and the Apparations that took place, etc.)—all the standard wizard-detective procedures.

Alfie’s a nice guy. Kind of reminds Harry of a giant golden retriever and seems younger than his age, but he’s wicked smart and quick with his wand. They’ve worked together the past 4 years—and they’ve seen a lot in that time—but somehow Alfie still manages to be surprised by how awful these crimes can get. And Harry can sympathize; he’s been through a war, yes, but it’s still hard to see the terrible ways people use magic to hurt others. It’s a far cry from the joy and awe he felt at eleven to make his first feather levitate, but it’s a truth he faces nearly every day on the job.

Magic can be ugly.

Or maybe it’s the people that are.

(Either way, it never gets easier.)

Today’s actually an odd case in that even though it’s a ministry woman—Zinnia Haberdasher—who was killed, it actually seems to be a Muggle crime. What magic signatures there are, are fragmented (read: probably magic remnants from a while ago) and the victim actually died from knife wounds. It’s grim, but since the foul play seems entirely non-magical, it’s out of their jurisdiction. Muggle police business now. They confiscate the items that are too-obviously-magic to keep the Muggle detectives within their little realm of normal and head out before the coppers show up.

Such is the way of the wizard: secretive mystique with a flair for dramatic exits.

When they wrap for the morning and head back to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Harry’s relieved to have a quiet afternoon just catching up on paperwork, but his hopes are soon smothered by the massive protest gathered outside.

You see, in the years since the war has ended, there has been massive changes to the wizarding world. By necessity, because clearly the flawed class structure and inefficient government of yesteryear allowed a resurrected snake-person to lead them down the road to genocide, which is the most major of red flags that a system is broken.

Death eaters, being of pureblood lines, tended to run in families. So, as entire high-society families were thrown into Azkaban en masse, there were enormous wealthy estates to seize (for those familes who’d gotten life sentences)—which went toward reparations and reconstruction. That part worked out rather well.

What did not work out as easily, was what to do with members of the family (in particular, the young ones) who were pressured into joining the death cult, only peripherally involved, or not involved at all but now lacked guardianship, since every one of their immediate extended family were now incarcerated. It was, in short, a bit of a mess. No one was jumping to adopt baby death eaters either.

The adolescents, by and large, went through a sort of juvie institution, where they received the de-programming and muggle-world-related-education they so desperately needed. The younger they were, the easier it usually was for them to shed the ugly prejudices they’d been raised amid. Public opinion did not look on them all that favorably, but most could find it in their hearts to forgive the folly of children.

Less so, for the adults. Some of which (the ones who’d been only tangentially involved, and/or demonstrably threatened) were now up for parole. Hence the protests.

Even after seven years of being finally-actually-dead, the ugly remnants of Voldemort’s crusade were still causing problems. Harry just wishes they could forget all about that creepy anagram-loving mouth-breather.

(Harry is still firmly in the camp of reducing Fear of The Name by any means at his disposal, and that includes petty digs. He’s allowed. He defeated the guy.)

The possible release of the low-grade Death Eaters is only the latest impetus for political protest. It’s been an ongoing campaign since the war—the calling for an end to attitudes of pureblood supremacy. It’s only right though, that the past decade has seen the whole blood purity thing get a lot of criticism, because _look where it led, guys!_

The muggleborns in particular are extremely peeved about how no one anticipated where it all would lead. Because, c’mon. If any of you wizards picked up a real history book, like ever, you would have seen this coming a mile away. (History books >> crystal balls, yo. Educate yourself.)

One group gaining a lot of traction at the present is a somewhat radical populist faction calling itself Genesis. Since what the wizarding world needs right now is a ‘new beginning’.

It’s suitably dramatic and emblematic, Harry will give them that.

They’re led by the person who founded it, a man named Roman Gyell. Their push is for less discrimination against non-purebloods AND less isolation from / more education about The Muggle World.

Y’know. The rest of humanity with whom wizards share the planet.

(Hang on, do wizards even know the Earth is round or is that too science for them? I don’t know, y’all, they still use candles and feather pens. It’s a valid question.)

There has been talk, in association with this Genesis group, of an event they’re calling ‘the Revelation’—a reveal of magic (and wizarding society, and all that it entails) to the muggle world. It once was more theoretical; now some say they’re calling for it more seriously.

Harry writes this off for the most part… he can’t even convince his fellow wizards to use pens, so he doesn’t see this happening any time soon.

LOL, Harry. You never were good at divination.


	2. A Brief Review and Overview of Magical Law, re: Secrecy from Muggles.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just to give you some basis of what is going on here. A legal refresher. 
> 
> Also, some OC's backstories.

Before we continue:

What follows is a Brief Review and Overview of Magical Law, re: Secrecy from Muggles. 

(I’m playing the devil’s advocate here against the establishment, so bear with me, and forgive me, Ms. Rowling, if I sound too harsh. I love your books, I swear.)

 _Excerpt from HP & the Philosopher’s Stone:_ Hagrid explains the purpose of the ministry.

  * **Hagrid** : "Ministry o' Magic messin' things up as usual."
  * **Harry Potter:** "There's a Ministry of Magic?" . . . "But what does a Ministry of Magic do? "
  * **Hagrid:** "Well, their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there's still witches an’ wizards up an' down the country."
  * **Harry Potter:** "Why?"
  * **Hagrid:** "Why? Blimey, Harry, everyone'd be wantin' magic solutions to their problems. Nah, we're best left alone."



So, their entire branch of government is founded on a fear and mistrust of most of the world, and their desire to avoid helping “everyone” solve "their problems". (This comes off rather uncharitable, I must admit.)

LEGISLATION

In wizarding Britain: **The Statute of Secrecy**

  * The basis of this law is their CLAIM that having aware muggles would endanger wizards.
  * BUT every crime between the muggle and wizarding world since the early 1600s has been perpetrated by wizards against the muggles, including:


  1. The unsanctioned violence from Death Eaters against muggle communities, etc.
  2. The sanctioned actions of ministry members - - constantly confounding and obliviating muggles whenever a wizard reveals magic accidentally or intentionally. 
    * This constitutes a major violation of them and their minds.
  3. Less dramatic but still culturally significant: Depriving of muggle-kind of knowledge of fantastical creatures. 
    * In 1750, Clause 73 was added to the Statute, strengthening the requirement that each Ministry would be responsible for the concealment of magical creatures within its territory or face sanction from the ICW.
    * What gives wizards the right to claim some sort of ownership over these creatures- which is what is being done by concealing them from muggles? 
      * Using their byproducts but hoarding this from muggles (i.e. using bezoars as a cure for poison, and other beneficial & lifesaving items)
    * People love the concept of the Loch Ness monster and yeti and unicorns.
  4. Blocking relationships between wizards and muggles (case in point: Dougal Macgregor) 
    * Super dysfunctional to have wizard muggle relationships- they must keep a secret for so long.
    * Part of the reason for wizarding world’s purebloodedness/inbreeding is probably because of how inherently dishonest a relationship with a muggle must be for so long
    * Example: Dougall McGregor. A tragedy. 
      * He and Minerva McGonagall were briefly engaged in the summer of 1954; he asked her to marry him and at first she accepted, but she later decided not to do it as she had not told him she was a witch and she thought it would mean the end of her career at the Ministry of Magic.
      * He was later murdered by Death Eaters randomly in 70s, and Minerva has blamed herself ever since.
      * (This is all per the HP wiki) 


  * Counterargument to the argument of isolationist pointing out the Salem witch trials: 
    * All sorts of people were burned at the stake back in the day, but are not anymore.
    * (Well, yes, this is because people have gradually become accustomed to their non-orthodoxy, but it was WIZARDS who denied themselves this process/progress by removing themselves from the culture and obliviating people.)



_**Side note, HP’s Ancestor supported the statute: Ralston Potter.**_

In wizarding USA: **"Rappaport's Law** **”** (MACUSA) from 1709-1965

  * Completely segregated witches and wizards from the No-Maj, and remained the law of the land until repealed in 1965
  * ‘Separate but Equal’ is not OK!
  * While wizard-kind and nonmagical people are no longer _physically_ segregated, they are still culturally segregated and kept apart in all the ways that matter.



P.S. Through all this upheaval in magical Britain, the MACUSA has been eminently unhelpful. They are basically waiting to see what happens next. (They’re in for quite the show.)

A final note on the political climate: The wizarding world gets PC.

Muggles have been rebranded as “nonwizards” or the “amagical” since the term “muggle” has some inherently derogatory connotations, in some people’s opinion (though only mildly).

Notes on a few key individuals at the head of Genesis.

**Roman Gyell**

(Gyell pronounced like “Guile” because the great naming tradition of HP knows no subtlety. Also, I chose "Roman" because all the old-timey pureblood names are Greek, and this dude is ushering in a new era.)

  * Halfblood, raised by his wizard father b/c his muggle mother left due to the breach of trust she felt when Roman’s father revealed his magic. Which he did not do until Roman was eleven and got his Hogwarts letter. (Roman’s entry into the magical world was bittersweet at best.) His father was quasi-absent during Roman’s teen years, since the man struggled to cope with his wife’s departure.
  * Roman became close with Tomeo Vascar (muggleborn kid) + his parents (muggles); the two are BFFs, basically brothers. (The Vascars are like his Weasleys, but to an even greater extent, since Tomeo was an only child.)
  * Sometime around age 20, Roman and Tomeo were in a car crash together. Tomeo died from his injuries. He could’ve been saved by magic, but Roman was unconscious at the time and the people at the scene took them to a muggle hospital.
  * Roman is now scarred and has a limp and cane— he refuses to allow any magic to be used to heal him further (and it could fix him), out of solidarity to Tomeo’s memory. 
    * Tomeo’s parents would never begrudge this, but Roman would have felt too guilty—since Tomeo died w/o the chance for magical medicine, Roman won’t take it now just to "look prettier” as he puts it.
    * Basically de facto adopted by the Vascars after their shared tragedy. BUT, tragically, the ministry ordered that the Vascar family be obliviated about the magical world, since their only magical relative is deceased and they are no longer involved. So, they no longer even know the full extent of who their son had been and Roman Gyell is cut off emotionally from them, due to the weight of what is now secret and his guilt over this.
  * As a result of all this, Gyell firmly believes it is deeply wrong to withhold magic from rest of world when it could do so much good.



**Sabine Vengeur** (Vengeur is French for ‘vengeful’. Make of that what you will.)

  * Sabine is the right hand woman of RG. She says little. Very intimidating lady.
  * Survivor of Death Eater crimes against & the imprisonment of muggleborns during the war. 
    * Escaped and formed a guerrilla group of other escaped women to fight back- Sabine’s women.
    * Her wand was snapped by Death Eaters back at her initial capture. But they say she uses its piece in the hilts of the daggers she carries, so that they never miss. 
      * (Like Hagrid’s repurposing his snapped wand into umbrella. But way more badass.)




	3. Weasley Family Dinner

It’s the night of the weekly family dinner at the Weasley’s. Which is honestly Harry’s favorite night of the week more often than not, since he is an orphan child war hero who has always enjoyed their boisterous brand of hygge.

In attendance are Harry and Hermione (the honorary Weasleys), as well as all the ginger wizards of said family.

(With the exception of Charlie, who’s in Romania; Bill, who’s in France with Fleur and Victoire to visit the in-laws; and Percy, who’s still a busy ministry prat—though admittedly, things are generally better with him nowadays.)

((*Also, to clarify, Harry is dating Ginny, and Ron & Hermione are engaged. It was Hermione who proposed. She has a five-year plan for marriage, career and childbirth. This is fine with Ron. He is quite happy to go along with her priorities, which are now all very much in order now. _Hermione knows best_ , is his motto at this point.))

It’s a lovely, cozy evening at the Burrow. Everything proceeds as usual, and it’s all a comforting warm tradition at this point.

Harry praises Ms. Weasley’s cooking, like always. She pinches his cheeks, as usual, and tell him he’s too skinny. George brings joke products to test, usually on an unwitting Ron.

Mr. Weasley wanders in late and absentmindedly and asks Harry or Hermione about curious muggle customs such as the macarena, or how to unravel the arcane secrets of The Rubik’s Cube.

What inevitably follows questions of this sort are Hermione’s patient explanations that _no_ , laundry detergent pods are not a muggle delicacy, whoever said that was joking, or clarifications that _actually_ , psychiatrists and psychics are two very different sorts of people, while Harry tries to stifle the urge to laugh.

Tonight, Hermione’s explanations are a bit half-hearted. She’s been incredibly busy with her work at the ministry lately and is quite stressed overall, as a result. Even more than her default setting of stressed, that is.

The protestors have been a headache and a half for her, being in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. With regards to Genesis (which is a hot button topic at the moment), Hermione certainly sympathizes with the underlying motivations of their cause, being a muggle-born herself. _However_ , she does _not_ agree with the radical pace at which they hope to push through all this change.

(Since her realization that her SPEW campaign was under-researched and insufficiently in tune with the needs of the house-elf demographic, she’s taken on a more forethoughtful outlook on social progress.)

All this is to say that Hermione is a strong supporter of getting wizards up to date and further integrated with the muggle world, but _not_ all at once. ‘The only permanent, positive change is a gradual one’. She’s a steadfast proponent of reform— not revolution. Done LAWFULLY.

(While she no doubt sees integration as desirable, it is more for the improvement of wizardkind, less so because of the afore-discussed injustices to muggles. She is obviously not overly bothered by the current state of muggle Obliviation practices. Let’s not forget, Hermione obliviated her own parents—admittedly, for their sake but she didn’t exactly give them a say in the matter. She could’ve asked them to move to Australia with their memories intact.

If anything, her strongest feelings regarding muggles are perhaps related to their right to share in wizard knowledge? Because at heart, Hermione’s still a bookworm who probably thinks the most unfair part of the Statute of Secrecy is that muggles don’t get to partake in magical academia.)

Mr. & Mrs. Weasley are likewise skeptical about Genesis and wizard integration with the muggle world—for different reasons, though. While they are certainly not blood purists, they are both pureblooded wizards deeply embedded in magical tradition. I mean, they homeschooled all of their many children rather than send them to muggle school. This, to me, does not speak of a deep yearning to join non-magical society.

(Also, if Arthur Weasley _truly_ wanted to understand muggles, I have to believe he’d have been able to learn of the postal service or gain some basic understanding of the currency without needing to rely on Harry.

The way he speaks of the ‘fascinating’ ways muggles have of ‘getting along without magic’ gives all his questions a tinge of unconscious condescension. His incompetence, while amusing, suggests he is more indulgent of muggles than admiring—they’re more of a curiosity to him than an inspiration.)

So, the Weasley parents still believe in separation and fundamental difference between wizards and muggles. They’re still a tad old school, in the same well-meaning way as grandmas who try to be complimentary but end up being very politically incorrect.

George, meanwhile, is fairly apolitical. He lampoons all political figures/stances equally. After the devastating losses of the wizarding war he has washed his hands of politics and is done with all that. It’s puking pastules from here on out.

Ron is sort of keeping his head down, generally anti-Genesis, and of the same mood of his parents, who of course raised him. Or backing Hermione. Whichever’s in the room, really. He’s not overly political himself. (He has by this point, retired from Auror work and joined George at Weasley’s Wizard Wheazes, as per canon.)

And now we come to Ginny. Activist. Pro-Genesis. In fact, a burgeoning member of Genesis--she’s grown increasingly involved of late. It’s the off-season for the Holyhead Harpies, so she has the time to protest and rally and whatnot. She is the one who brought up the topic at the dinner table, since it is what she talks of most, much to Harry’s increasing weariness.

As they discuss, Hermione’s being fairly reasonable, if maybe a bit too pedantic. She gets her lecture on: ‘populism isn’t a movement; it’s _strategy-_ to ‘affirm the identity of the insecure members of a society’ and ‘articulate their anxieties’. Yeesh. This sets Ginny of a bit, who is a staunch supporter of Gyell and true believer in the cause.

Ginny’s formative years, after all, were spent rebelling against Ministry oppression via Dumbledore’s Army and then staging acts of civil disobedience and subversive gestures under Death Eater rule of Hogwarts. It’s practically instinct to go against the establishment at this point.

So, while Hermione talks clinically about how public sentiments of ‘collective frustration & anxiety, inequality, and lack of transparency in government’ drive people to movements similar to Genesis, but figures like Gyell rarely follow through and accomplish their goals after campaigns done, Ginny is righteously indignant.

The Weasley parents then chip in about how Genesis’s end-goals and the talk of a Revelation are a bit foolish anyhow. Things get louder. Ginny gets fiery. It becomes a Dinnertime Politics Family Blowup.

Ginny looks to Harry, _her boyfriend who was raised in the muggle world_ , to back her up on this…

And he doesn’t.

He waffles a bit and tries to be a peacemaker. Harry doesn’t really know how to argue with family, okay? He’s an orphan raised in a dysfunctional household.

And honestly? When it comes down to it, Harry is against the Revelation. He is pretty uncomfortable with the concept, because years of the Dursleys hating him for having magic have deeply scarred his outlook of how muggles would treat wizards.

Childhood trauma runs deep, man. And while rationally, Harry understands all the points she’s making, he can’t bring himself to side with Ginny on this.

He’s been a bit awkward and distant when she brings up her political protesting activities for a while now—for this reason. And also because the rate at which she’s become wrapped up in it all feels a little cultish. He doesn’t really know how to talk about it without sounding like a detractor of progress, so he’s been more or less avoiding it.

She feels passionate about social justice. She feels like she is making a difference, having known what it is like to be powerless in the past. She feels like he has grown complacent since the war ended. Voldemort is gone, but the fight is not over yet. Why can’t he see that? They need change now.

_I think maybe it’s just not the time yet, Ginny._

_Maybe you’re just not the man I thought you were, Harry._

They leave separately.


	4. Chapter 4

Still reeling from the fight with Ginny _(was it a break-up?? Harry doesn’t know???),_ Harry resorts to old coping mechanisms. After Mrs. Weasley sends him home with leftovers, he apparates to the station and rides the trains for a while, like in the _Half Blood Prince_.

As he looks at the muggles, he muses on how different their lives are, how magic has made his life both better and worse, etc., etc.

It’s half-existential crisis, half-moping.

Eventually, he goes home.

The next day (he’s off of work), he decides to visit Luna at her wonky little house for advice. They catch up for a while, and chat about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks and nargles, and how the pursuit of some supposedly-imaginary creature that Luna was studying ended up causing her and Neville to visit an area where Neville discovered a new and important plant for the magical botany community. (What a dream team.)

The conversation turns when Luna senses Harry’s aura is looking a bit eigengrau at the edges and is everything alright with him? Harry speaks in sort of dramatic general terms about his relationship troubles and his doubts about what sort of man and hero he has been these last years.

Luna answers him with vague and eccentric advice about change being natural but in a much weirder way and tells him some bizarre proverb to go with it.

Harry is deeply confused but appreciates the effort. (Possibly, he will reflect of this later and understand. Or possibly not. Only time will tell.)

He ends up hearing from Neville, too (via Fireplace Floo Facetime or whatever it’s called), who’s a professor of herbology at Hogwarts. They get to talking about how current political situations have affected Hogwarts.

((Because we can’t just _not_ talk about the coolest school in the world))

What follows is a brief discussion of how the Hogwarts climate has changed—the student body is more modern in attitude (more ‘woke’, one might say) with regard to House prejudices. People push back against house labelling. Slytherins are ambitiously active in reforming their house’s reputation. The students probably hold debates on how house divisions foster sociopolitical divisions later in life or something like that. Kids are making efforts to break down boundaries. (Good for them, these kids are doing the most).

McGonagall is very proud. She’s always been a big supporter of inter-house friendship. (As long as Gryffindor winnnnssss).

Harry leaves the Lovegood House still uncertain of what role he will play, but feeling a bit better about the world in general.

Back at work with Alfie, Harry is doing Auror Stuff TM, when he is asked by the Ministry to do another political symbol/figurehead thing to endorse an event of some sort (as “Man Who Lived”, aka hero of the wizard war).

This is a pretty common occurrence. The frequency of this sort of thing has slowed as the years since the war have passed, but he’ll probably never be fully out of the spotlight.

It’s also another sore point with Ginny, who feels he needs to exert more agency over his role as a figurehead and be less amenable to what the Ministry asks of him. It’s true, he’s a bit complacent about it, but Harry is so _weary_ of being the Chosen One. He _just_ wants to be an Auror. He works hard at that and doesn’t have the time to be a politician, too.

So, mostly, he just supports whatever they ask him to. People really lost faith in Ministry during the war—and rightly so. Voldemort freaking took it over, and it was failing _hard_ long before that. Regaining that faith will be a long and slow process, but Harry wants to do what he can to help it along.

This time around it’s an event about the foster care system for children displaced by the war. Harry’s supposed to make a statement and answer some questions press-conference style.

Public speaking, even after all these years, is still not his forte, when it’s not a topic he’s really comfortable with, like it was in Dumbledore’s Army. He tries to ask Hermione for some advice, but they don’t get a chance to talk much—she’s at work and too busy to talk. Harry goes to Shacklebolt then, who says something terse and brief, along the lines of ‘avoid being too controversial’. Harry thinks of the argument with Ginny and feels a little guilty, but decides that yeah, he’ll toe the party line.

Unfortunately, he ends up saying something at this event (trying to follow KS advice) that comes off wrong and sort of blood-purist. Or it’s willfully misconstrued by the reporters in attendance. Either way they come down hard on him, and he’s floundering.

They bring up his own status as a Potter—which is a long lineage, that can be traced back illustrious members like Ralston Potter, who served on the Wizengamot from 1612 to 1652, _apparently_ and was a staunch advocate of the Statute of Secrecy. Harry didn't even know this, but OK.

This segues into a question about his opinion on magical secrecy and the Revelation. Whatever answer Harry gives is awkward at best. The press twists it into something even more inflammatory, and he is sensationally hated on.

Harry always _has_ had a troubled relationship with the press.

Feeling persecuted and alone, Harry leaves the event.

:(((((((

Mopey Harry ensues.


	5. Chapter 5

While leaving the event, Harry runs into someone just outside.

It’s Draco Malfoy, poster-boy of the reformed.

In the years since the war, the dude went through some serious ideological rehabilitation to avoid jail time. This was an acceptable substitute for straight-up incarceration, since he _was_ a minor at the time and was coerced into joining the Death Eaters by his family. 

The de-programming was successful, but it’s not a personality transplant, so he’s still petty as hell and can’t speak to Harry without resorting to snark. But it’s a layer of snark over a decent moral foundation now. So, while Harry is annoyed to be talking to him (because he just _cannot_ right now), he no longer despises his albino peer from the depths of his soul.

Draco (with a few put-upon sighs) takes Harry into, I dunno, a bar or something to evade the reporters and they end up chatting for a minute. It turns out Draco has a pretty different outlook on the world now. He can actually see how screwed up he and his family were back in the day. (He still has quite a caustic personality and butts head with Harry, though.)

He, like Ginny, points out the major amount of pull Harry has as the Man Who Lived—which he’s not using. (“You’re such an idiot, Potter”)

But he does it in a general way, without telling Harry what he ought to be doing with it. Which Harry appreciates. (Probably because Draco just doesn’t care enough about Harry, but whatever.)

Draco has mostly excommunicated himself from the wizard politics, but when prompted, his opinion is that the wizarding world is deeply screwed up. Thanks to his de-programming, _he_ probably has a far better understanding of muggles than most wizards do, which is deeply bizarre on so many levels. It just goes to show how badly change is needed.

Harry is so torn about all this mess that he’s willing to, _ugh_ , ask what Draco thinks Harry should do. _So, what, do you I should like support Genesis...?_

Draco’s answer is a resounding no. _C’mon, Potter. Their leader sounds like a nutter. You’d better find out what the hell his deal is, before you start throwing your support behind him. Get yourself together, Chosen Boy._

Ok, ok. Harry can do that.

As Draco pointed out, Harry has a lot of influence, whether he wants it or not, so he has a duty to use it responsibly (not that he said it quite that politely). So, new plan: find out what this Roman Gyell fellow’s deal is, and maybe, _just maybe_ , reconcile with Ginny along the way.

Well, damn. Clarity really can come from the strangest of places if Harry is taking advice from Draco fucking Malfoy.

Just to be a contrary bastard, Malfoy leaves Harry with the tab.

Harry, like a good Gryffindor, pays it.

So, Harry goes to talk to Ginny.

Maybe he finds her at a quidditch pitch, where she’s practicing her mad Quaffle Skills. She sort of ignores him at first and keeps shooting goals or whatever.

 _Another score by Weasley for the Holyhead Harpies_ , he faux-cheers. _She’s unstoppable._

Ok, she’s reluctantly smiling now. Harry is such a dork.

She wings the quaffle at him, which he catches, and then comes over to land. They briefly reminisce over a shared quidditch memory, which segues into talk of their Hogwarts days.

Ginny grows contemplative, then, because this relates to what she’s doing now and, probably, why Harry feels differently about it.

She tells Harry that they had very different experiences during the war. While Harry was working on destroying the horcruxes, she and the other Hogwarts students did not have such a concrete focus for their efforts. The frustration and powerlessness they felt during the occupation of Hogwarts is something that still drives her today, when she is confronted with nebulous foes like prejudice and intolerance.

To bring in another contrast of their experiences: in Harry’s second year, he found the Chamber of Secrets, killed the basilisk and stabbed the book. A decisive heroic victory.

Ginny, on the other hand, struggled for months against the insidious influence of the diary. Fighting a losing battle all on her own. It made her question her principles, her sanity, even her will to live. Fighting back took _everything she had_ , and in the end, she still lost. Riddle took control, and she only survived because of Harry.

Harry saved the day, but for Ginny that day—that _year_ , really—will always be the most crushing of defeats. She appreciates the save, of course, but that loss—it took everything, even her own autonomy. And it took a long time after that to get back to feeling normal: to live her life without Tom’s words creeping in and choking her, to stop panicking that she’s lost chunks of time if she got distracted a minute or fell asleep.

The situation now feels the same way—the battle is won, but the fight’s not over, not _really_. It’s just that now the battles play out as protests in the streets and legislative change in the courts of the Wizengamot. The time has come for discussion and reform, not just spells and duels. It’s just as important, really.

 _These_ are the things that stop wars from starting again.

And I can really make a difference with this, she says. Humanity—a person’s worth— isn’t at all measured by someone’s ability to apparate or make a feather levitate. That’s why Voldemort and his folk were so wrong to come after muggle-born and muggles.

And it’s brilliant that people are finally acknowledging muggle-borns are just as good as the rest. But people still treat them like they’ve somehow managed to _overcome_ the uselessness of their background. Like their muggle family and friends are part of circumstances they’ve risen above. You’ve met Hermione's parents. They’re as brilliant as she is! And at that awful Slug Club they laughed about their life's work like they meant nothing. 

I know the Dursley’s were absolutely hateful toward you. But if the worst of us were any indication of how we all are, well, God help us all. Because the Wizarding world has clearly got some pretty bad seeds.

(Harry can’t help but crack a smile at that description of the dark lord as a ‘bad seed’.)

There’s been so much progress out there in the muggle world, and it seems like up until now, the Wizarding world hasn’t even been trying, she says.

Voldemort’s reign of terror and the shadow it cast beyond his first defeat has a lot to do with that. But he’s gone now. And now all the evil he caused and that he tried to bring about- - _Now_ it’s causing people to take notice of how insidious these prejudices really are.

This is going to be a part of his legacy, too, and there is something incredibly satisfying about _that_ , because he would just _hate_ it. It’s like we’re winning all over again by taking the things he did and using them to drive us to be better.

They look out at the quidditch pitch, and Harry understands a little better now why this means so much to her. She’s not entirely right in saying that his fight was clear and short—he’s spent extended time around horcruxes, as well, and know how it can change you, how it never really leaves you—but he knows what she means. It was at least more straight-forward.

 _I think what you had to face took more bravery than what I did,_ he says, like a supportive boyfriend, and he means it.

Cue fond eye-roll. _It’s not a contest, Harry. We can both be Gryffindors._

OK, yeah, she’s got him there.

So, he floats the idea that he wants to meet this Roman Gyell.

If Ginny thinks his vision is the best path for the Wizarding world toward a brighter future, then he’s a man worth talking to. To find out more about this cause, and maybe learn what he can do to help.

She’s excited. Glad that things are on the mend between them and that Harry is interested wants to be involved. Roman’s wanted to meet you, Harry. He’ll be really chuffed.

Good. Harry is too.

Before they go, Harry challenges Ginny to a one-on-one quidditch match.

First one to score ten goals wins.

_You’re on, Potter._

...She solidly trounces him.

Honestly, he should really know better than to keep challenging a professional quidditch player at this point.

But Harry will happily get his arse kicked on the quidditch pitch every day of the week if he gets to see that smile while it happens.


	6. Chapter 6

The next day dawns bright and beautiful; it’s the sort of morning that makes Harry yearn for a nice flyabout on his sleek Firebolt 3000. The sun is shining out of an unclouded sky—the likes of which are rare enough in London—so naturally, immediately upon his arrival to work, Harry is summoned to the one place it is almost _always_ guaranteed to be raining: Wales.

Alfie, cheery as ever, snags the portkey they’re issued before Harry can even read the report, and off they spin.

They arrive amidst rolling green hills, dandelions swaying in the breeze, an adolescent but amply-sized specimen of Welsh Green dragon, and an absolute _infestation_ of fluffy white sheep—one of which said dragon is serenely munching on.

In other words, a quintessentially Welsh tableau.

Their portkey had dropped them just at the outskirts of a tiny hamlet tucked away in the mountains known as Gwynfe. To Harry’s great relief, there are already dragon handlers on scene to corral the beast (between the First Task and the heist of Gringotts, that was enough dragon-induced heart attacks for Harryin this lifetime, thanks very much), but there’s little urgency to it. The immolation of the village had already been averted by a quick-thinking local, via the judicious application of floating sheep to entice the hungry Green away from the town.

It is apparently this local that Harry and Alfie, as Aurors (a.k.a. apprehenders of dangerous witches and wizards), have been called in to deal with.

Dafydd Sutton, aged 18 years old. Of shortish height, and longish nose. Red cheeks. Even redder hair.

And the kicker: an unregistered magic-user.

For a moment, Harry is stumped. What— _why?_ How does that even _happen_? It’s plain perplexing is what it is.

He _knows_ Hogwarts notifies all magical children on their eleventh birthday about both the school and the existence of magic, if they hadn’t cottoned on by that point—magical family or no. Having a Muggle family was no issue, obviously—Hermione’s, and so many others, had been brought into the fold, so to speak. A habit of moving house was no issue either. Hagrid’s dogged tracking of Harry and the Dursleys all the way to the remote Hut-on-the-Rock they’d squirreled themselves away to proved _that_. Sheer, stubborn denial was no obstacle either. (Again, see the example of the Dursleys.)

So, then _why_ —

—and then it clicks, as Harry does the math. _Of course._ 18 years old. Dafydd would have been 11 _seven years ago_. Namely, the year the wizarding world had been consumed in the chaos and terror of war with Voldemort _and_ the year _Death Eaters_ had been running Hogwarts.

Ok, so, no great mystery then as to why a muggle-born hadn’t gotten an invite to the party.

Before he can unravel the matter any further though, he is accosted by a very small, very loud young Welshwoman. Nia Griffith, she is called. A muggle, and Dafydd’s girlfriend, as it turns out.

“ _Please_ , sir! Dafy hasn’t done any harm! He’s a good man. _Please_. Don’t take him away,” she begs.

She’s frantic and (understandably) panicked about the whole magic-secret-police that have descended upon their sleepy little town. Harry tries to calm her down. Deep breaths!

Nia, he says. Don’t worry. We’re not taking Dafydd away from you. He’s not being arrested. We just need to ask him a few questions.

“Promise?”

I promise, he swears.

She grasps it like it’s an enchantment, a vow, like a blood oath from some old myth, but that’s fine; he _does_ mean it. Anyway, he can go on with the investigation now. He joins Alfie where he’s already begun interviewing to the boy and begins to hear what’s been going on in Gwynfe.

It turns out Dafy’s magic has been channeled into a sort of “knack” for fixing things—even things that shouldn’t be fixable. A table that’s broken down the middle, whole again. A cracked teapot, now smooth. And bigger things, too: sheep that need no herding. A lawn that seems to keep itself trimmed. ‘Magic’ tricks for the children that work with no trickery at all.

Unfortunately, but inevitably, there are magical accidents, too. The occasional shattered window. Unexpected lightning strikes. An unshakeable procession of noisy bullfrogs that _would not leave_ Henrietta Awbrey alone after she spread that bit of gossip about Dafy’s mum. That sort of thing.

But nothing malicious. Nothing evil.

Probably Dafydd will get a permanent Trace and enrollment in a mandated magical learning program to avoid future accidental magic. Being not only young but also ignorant of magical bureaucracy, he can’t really be blamed for violating its statutes. Harry can _hardly_ see him getting thrown into Azkaban for innocent magic and saving the village, to boot.

The damage report reads: three sheep (tragically cut down in their prime); several fields marred by claw prints that any muggle would no doubt find suspiciously large; a few knocked-down ‘fellytone’ poles as the Ministry workers put it; and widespread violation of the International Statute of Secrecy. Hm.

This means they will need to Obliviate some folks, something Harry’s never really enjoyed. And it’ll be a big job too. Enormous one actually. A _whole town_ and roughly a _whole decade_ of illegal magic? _Yikes_ —

\--they inform Harry a team of Obliviators is already on it. Ah, good, then. Since Lockhart, memory charms have made him uncomfortable. They wrap up the interview, tell Dafydd to report to the Ministry next Monday at 9am, Department of Magical Reparations, they’ll get him sorted.

The boy is relieved, thanks them profusely and rushes out to tell Nia.

 _That wasn’t so bad was it?_ Alfie grins. Harry returns it. They’re both of them softies; they like a happy ending. And after everything, Harry reckons they deserve a few of those. Still smiling, they head back outside.

He seems them talking and he doesn’t realize anything’s wrong at first. Nia and Dafydd are talking, and Harry’s too far away to hear but Dafy seems to be growing more upset and Nia more confused. Suddenly, Dafy’s expression crumples and he rushes away, leaving Nia standing, watching, perplexed.

What—? Harry asks. The Obliviator walking by pauses and follows his gaze.

“Ah, rough one,” he says with offhand sympathy. “Too many incidents, too many years… we had to remove him wholesale.”

Alfie’s eyebrows go up. _Wholesale? You mean—?_

“Aye,” the man says, before moving on. “Everything of him. From the whole town.” Then Harry understands and his stomach drops.

Nia didn’t recognize him.

 _Don’t take him away,_ she’d begged. _Please, sir!_ They had anyway. Harry had let them, had broken his promise to her…and she would never even remember it had been made.

He sways, loses himself for a minute until Alfie’s at his elbow, prompting him. Time to go back to headquarters, time to finish the report, more jobs to do, more work to be done. And so on, and so on. They go.

(Harry’s not sure if the sickness in his stomach and twisted feeling in his limbs is from Apparating or something else.)

The Aurors and wizards are all gone from Gwynfe within the hour, vanishing into empty air with so many a crack.

Nia Griffith stands on Main Street all alone, feeling as though she’s just … forgotten… something…. _Oh—_ it was probably the milk, she’s always leaving it off her list.

She turns and heads to the grocery, trying to push aside that feeling of something missing.


End file.
